


A Family of Inconvenience

by Kashi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, HP: EWE, M/M, Magic-Users, Not Epilogue Compliant, Slow Build, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2018-11-19 09:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11310132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kashi/pseuds/Kashi
Summary: Malfoy would go to any lengths to save one of his own.  Turns out, Harry wasn't much different, really.





	1. Chapter 1

> _“Reporter: what of the reports that the Aurors allowed the Knockturn Spring Riots to happen? That the aurors stood by and…_
> 
> _Gawain Robards, Head Auror: I have to interrupt you here. I refuse to let these conspiracy theories spread. The Knockturn Sprint Riots were not a result of auror ineffectiveness. Need I remind you of the character of these Knockturn rioters? They were nothing but degenerate anti-social elements moved to senseless violence. They were not rallying against some oppression. Investigations are underway and we will punish the perpetrators.  But, I want you and all your listeners to know that our aurors did what they had to do to keep the British magical community safe.”_
> 
> _Excerpts from Gawain Robards Interview, Wizarding Wireless Network_

Twenty minutes before his meeting, Harry Potter apparated to Grimmauld Place. He knew it would please Kreacher to be the one to move the luggage, so he dropped his bags on the foyer and ran upstairs, two steps at a time. He felt, as always, a pleasant surprise that the old house hadn't turned back into a dump. It had taken time and money to clean the place up. But he'd managed to turn down Molly's offer of lending a helping hand and persisted in getting a magical cleaning service that specialized in this sort of thing. The house was still gloomy, but the filth and the damp were long gone. 

He had cleaned up Grimmauld Place fully intending never to actually live there. At the moment, he shared a cottage in Lavenham with Ron. (Well, _shared_ only in the sense of Molly pretending at family dinners that Ron wasn’t living in Hermione’s flat.) But he wanted to will the house to Teddy, same as Sirius had done for him. 

“Because that’s what all godfathers need to do. Leave their godchildren smelly old houses.”  Ginny had laughed at the idea good-naturedly.

He reached his room and flipped his old Hogwarts trunk open, rummaging inside it. He was pretty sure; he'd left it here, among his old things. 

He pulled out old textbooks, half empty potion ingredient boxes, a bunch of quills, all broken, a jumble of school robes and old muggle clothing, till his fingers finally brushed against the bottom of the trunk. His fingers closed around the hawthorn wand, which warmed against his right hand as he pulled it out. 

His old wand, we _ll_ , if you wanted to be precise, Malfoy’s old wand. But that’s why he was here, wasn’t it?

_Malfoy_

He scowled at the thought, his fingers brushing almost reflexively against his right robe pocket, where he’d stuffed Malfoy’s letter. It had arrived just that morning.

He slid the wand in along with the letter, left Kreacher strict instructions - as to why, when and how to contact Hermione in his absence and then apparated out to meet Malfoy according to the instructions in the damned letter. 

Harry had been surprised that the letter had even found him while he was on vacation. Most tabloids had already published _‘eyewitness accounts’_ of him enjoying a fling with a Brazillian hottie in the Caribbean and further follow-up articles of Ginny engaging in a _revenge fling_ with the Argentinean Seeker. The Daily Prophet had even run a serious piece on how this could adversely affect South American Relations. His friends, however, knew that in an emergency they could find him in Cornwall. 

A nifty spell had meant all the inane mail he received on a daily basis – death threats, marriage proposals, fan mail, the Daily Prophet (he had protested against the lifetime free subscription to no avail), re-routed to Grimmauld Place where Kreacher gleefully banished them. _And yet Malfoy’s letter had found him._

Obviously, given it had got through his wards, he _should_ have thrown it away. Just as obviously, he’d read it out of curiosity.  Malfoy hadn’t even asked for a reply. So sure, that Harry would show up.  A _rrogant twat._

 By all accounts, Malfoy’s request that Harry meet with him urgently was suspicious. When had he last seen him? At the War Trials, when he’d spoken in favour of Narcissa and Malfoy? They’d not spoken even then. Malfoy had only jerked his head in a nod, in surprised acknowledgment, when Harry had caught his eye. So it had been nearly three years then.

It could be a trap. It was probably a trap. But Malfoy had played it smart. He’d mentioned the one thing that Harry had never been able to ignore.

_It is about our shared family._

* * *

 

Harry supposed Diagon Alley looked better. The economy was still lagging post-war but the Ministry had launched a campaign to ‘restore our greatest public spaces to their former glory.' Diagon Alley had undergone rapid expansion. The closed down shops had been reopened, several new ones had sprung up and a fresh coat of wards and restoring charms had spruced up the place. It had been the first magical place he’d seen as a child and it had always been special. But ever since the Spring Riots in Knockturn Alley, each time he walked through the busy street, the place made him feel a little bit sick.

Obviously, Malfoy didn't know this when he had asked to meet here.  A public place, a way to signal he meant no harm. _Unless he meant to cause widespread harm and wanted to throw Harry into the mix for shits and giggles._   He wouldn’t put it past Malfoy. Hadn’t he dressed up as a Dementor just to make him lose a Quidditch Match?  (He ignored the voice in his head that said he was ignoring a large chunk of Malfoy’s other more notorious plans in favour of dredging up this older memory.)

Florean Fortescue’s ice cream parlour, where Malfoy had asked to meet was jampacked. A large enchanted banner on which the words _‘Sunday Brunchday, Kids try our Itzy Bitzy Icecream!’_ were dancing in bright pink, twirled around the tables and swerved around the waiters, before rising in the air like a magic carpet and breaking into confetti, raining down on the excited children who'd been following it around. The banner reappeared again near one of the rear tables now with the words _‘Nicholas, Happy Birthday from Fortescue!’_ much to the delight of a bunch of kids at the table who took off after it and the pained smiles of the hapless parents.

What could Malfoy’s dastardly plan be? Poisoned fairy cream cakes?

A memory of Ron choking, his face splotchy, swam up before Harry and he flinched away, not just from the memory but also the thought of how much more pissed off Ron would be with him if he found out he'd gone to meet Malfoy without him. _Without anyone._

“This is why you will never last as an Auror, Mr. Potter” Ewain, his supervisor at Auror trainee camp liked to say. “You don’t know how to be a team player.”

Well, Ewain may have been right about the Aurors, but if Harry was walking into a trap, he damn well wasn’t dragging his friends into it.

Malfoy was seated right at the end, at one of the tables adjoining the street, staring moodily into the cup of tea in front of him. _Good spot for a quick getaway_ Harry noted almost absent-mindedly, even as he steered left so that he was outside the blonde’s direct vision. Not that hiding seemed all that necessary. Malfoy looked too miserably lost in his own world, to notice any of the noise and chatter around him. His blonde hair was longer than Harry remembered but lay limp and lifeless.  He was crunched into himself; his shoulders stressed and tucked in an uncomfortable angle. His grey cloak looked two sizes too big and dwarfed his frame. The day was bright and cheery in Diagon Alley, most likely due to s _pellwork_ , but Malfoy looked like he had been caught in a storm. _Maybe he could describe how pathetic Malfoy looked to cheer Ron up?_

Harry steered clear of the enormous chocolate strawberry cake, which was being levitated presumably to Nicholas’ table. He had already scanned the crowd and adjoining vantage points for signs of threat. When he was close enough, he turned right, making a quick beeline towards Malfoy from the side.  If he wanted full control, he had to do this quick.

Harry was nearly there before the weak shield charm that hovered around Malfoy grated against his own charmwork, and the magic static seemed to snap Malfoy out of his trance. Malfoy turned sideways, his eyes narrowing in recognition but he looked rightly confused when Harry bore down on him, grinning.

“Oye! How you been?” He said in an unnecessarily jovial tone, even as he clapped his left hand on Malfoy’s back. He slid it up, crunching his hand around Malfoy's shoulder, close to his neck. Malfoy, who had started in surprise at the clap, stilled as he felt the wand tip pressing against his neck, concealed just under Harry’s robe sleeve.

“It’s been too long. We should meet more often.” Harry’s grin was as big as it was fake. He kept his hand on Malfoy’s shoulder, even as he leaned over, across the dainty white table to grab the other chair. He dragged it across to sit close, pressed against Malfoy. He cast a quick _Muffliato, even as h_ e leaned forward, turning sideways so that the rest of Fortescue could at best see his side profile. More importantly, it hid the second wand he’d jabbed right in between  Malfoy’s ribs.

Harry’s grin slipped away as he gave words to the dark ugly anger that had simmered inside him since morning.

“ Malfoy, what the fuck did you want to talk to me about Teddy?”

* * *

To his credit, Malfoy paled only a bit. He looked away from the naked fury on Harry's face, and then slowly raised his hands, laying them on the table, uncurling his fingers, palms facing upward. _No wand. Not a threat._ Harry ignored it. He wasn’t taking any chances.   

"There-” Malfoy cleared his throat, seemed to reorder his words and then said,

“To tell you about Teddy, I will also need to tell you a bit of the background. You have to understand, some of what I say are private matters that also concern me. I do not wish for anyone else to know about it. Will you let me explain?”

 “Yes, I already-” but Harry gasped, as he felt a tingling rush of magic wash over him at his own words.

 _Damn him to hell for all eternity._ Malfoy had tricked him into some sort of vow!

“Look, Potter,” Malfoy said hurriedly, cutting into the litany of curses that had been ready to slip off Harry's tongue. "It’s just a privacy spell. I knew you would act pigheaded and not agree to it if I asked in advance but it really is stuff better kept private. I swear on my mother I am not trying to ambush you.”

Harry wanted to fling a curse, kick a chair and walk away. But if Malfoy's information could in any way harm Teddy, then he needed to know.

"Stop wasting my time, Malfoy. Just tell me." He said, finally. His fingers were still digging into Malfoy’s shoulder, much harder now, but the blonde didn't seem to notice. Instead, he was warily watching the wand pressed against his ribs.

 Malfoy nodded, turning away from Harry, keeping his eyes on his hands that he’d clasped around the cup of tea. Malfoy relaxed a bit, at having got his own way, no doubt. Bloody arrogant ferret.

“As you may know, I was sentenced to a year of solitary confinement in a remote safe house after the War. I was allowed to do very little magic but-”

“I swear if you are here to feed me your sob story-"

But Malfoy forced his voice over Harry. "but I was allowed to make potions as part of Ministry's community service deal; basic stuff really – burn creams, fever balms, pepper up potions – that sort of thing. I was good.”

He added in a rush ignoring Harry’s derisive snort.  “At least, St Mungo’s seem to think so. Soon, I was making more complex potions that the healers needed. And I just continued doing it after I finished my year, as a side project."

“What does this have to do with Teddy?” Harry asked, trying to keep his temper under check.

“er, since I have been out, I also branched out and –” Malfoy threw a worried glance at Harry “started making potions for a little more…off the book clientele?” 

"Nothing too bad,” he added quickly, watching Harry’s increasingly stony expression. "Just small stuff that the Knockturn distributors couldn't get their hands on since the War. The Spring Riots changed things. What with Knockturn Alley being burnt down, many of the clientele that used to go to Knockturn distributors became my customers directly.” 

Harry tried very hard not to look away from Malfoy or rub his hand over his faded scar. He knew logically, it did not hurt anymore. But he felt phantom twitch whenever he was...upset. Knockturn Alley’s destruction still bothered him too much.

“Malfoy, just tell me already." He could sense where this was going.  "Is someone trying to poison Teddy?"

“Andromeda Tonks. One of the clients is Andromeda Tonks.”

Harry froze. He wasn't expecting that.

“What potion did she want that’s got your knickers in such a twist?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual but failing badly.

Malfoy’s scowl was impressive, even more so, because Harry realized Malfoy had been holding it back since the start. _Malfoy had been trying to be civil. He really wanted him to hear this but why?_

“Wolfsbane, Potter. She’s been ordering Wolfsbane.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 of a long winding thing that has been sitting in my drafts forever. Much of the first part is written. So I plan to update weekly. Do please let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

 

> _The press may call them Anti-Werewolf Legislations. But they are simply measures to ensure a safer environment for all of us. We cannot let someone like Fenrir Greyback rise up again._

 

Draco knew he didn’t have to wait for Potter’s reaction. Surely, he’d done the needful. Draco could apparate away right now and Potter would go save his dead cousin’s werespawn. This was the best case scenario, of course.  At worst…well at worst, his life could come crashing down – again.

He’d taken a risk; a colossal stupid risk in telling Potter.

 _‘Stop being so melodramatic, Draco; it’s tedious.’_ His father’s voice - he blamed the extended solitary confinement for the voices in his head. 

He was shaken out of it when Potter’s hand slipped down suddenly from his shoulder to grab him round the waist. Harry’s right hand was now buried deep inside Draco’s robe; his wand still sticking it to him in ribs.

"Seriously, two wands? Isn’t that overkill?" He'd wanted to say that since the start.

“Get up,” Harry hissed, voice gone cold and Draco scrambled to obey.

He was pushed and pulled along, till they reached the tiny alley behind Sugarplums where he was unceremoniously smacked against the wall.  

There was a sickening sound of his head hitting the stone wall but Draco was too panicked to feel the pain. Potter’s left hand was roughly splayed over Draco’s mouth to stop him from _screaming? Cursing?_  Potter's wand was raised overhead threateningly. His glasses were askew – his eyes were flashing green and wild.

_‘Do you suppose this is the moment Boy Wonder snaps and kills someone? Namely you?’_

_Father! This is not the time!_ Draco snapped angrily in his head, even as Harry brought the wand down in a familiar gesture.

“Stupefy.”

* * *

Draco expected to wake up in a holding cell in Azkaban; as he was enervated, he thought his worst fears confirmed. The room was cold and gloomy; he heard close by the crazy rasping mutterings of some fellow prisoner. His head throbbed.

He couldn’t feel the rest of his body! He looked down in panic and relaxed as he saw he was bound to a chair, a partial body bind. His mouth however felt as if he’d been fed the drink of despair. 

“Water,” he managed to croak not bothering to hide his misery. Sometimes, there were junior Aurors at interrogations who were fresh enough to feel pity.

“Kreacher" Potter's voice snapped close by. There was a familiar pop of a house elf going in and out and then a glass of water was pressed blessedly against his lips. He drank slowly trying to buy time to scout out his location.

This wasn’t Azkaban and the crazy muttering seemed to be coming from the house-elf - _Kreacher_. He didn’t usually remember the names of any house elves except his own, but this one sounded vaguely familiar. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t being handed over to the Aurors yet. The relief he felt was immense.

“Malfoy stop stalling.” The glass was removed and Potter came into focus. His face was pinched and angry.

“Now, I don’t believe a word of the story you’ve made up. But I need to know why. Just to ensure your cooperation, I’ve-“ Draco lost track of the words, as Potter stepped forward, his hand which had been lying near his side suddenly raised.

Draco couldn’t help it. He flinched, turned his head sideways trying to curl into himself. If his hands were free, he would have raised them to protect his face from the hit.

When it didn’t come, he cautiously opened his eyes and looked at Potter.

Potter, who was holding out a small potion veil, looking at Draco confused.

Draco relaxed as he realized what Potter wanted. _Oh, Veritaseum. That was alright._

Potter didn’t comment on Draco’s mini freak out and soon Draco felt the familiar effects of Veritaseum taking effect. He wasn’t fully immune but he could lie if he made an effort. He didn’t offer much of a resistance now, though; he wanted to tell the truth, for most parts. He parroted out the details just as before, and smirked inwardly, as Potter's voice got duller and duller. There were a few questions right at the end, however, that made his Veritaseum addled brain sit up and take notice.

“ Aren’t there confidentiality vows in place to prevent you from telling me your client’s identity? Why aren't you affected?”

 “The Spring Riots razed Knockturn Alley to the ground. All the shops were burnt, and the shopkeepers that were not outright killed were carted off to Azkaban, most for life sentences.” He was glad Veritaseum made his voice dull and matter of fact. It kept his anger hidden. His best memories of Knockturn Alley were as a kid. It was chock full of shadows and creepy things but also endlessly fascinating. He was rarely allowed to go there; mother didn’t approve but father had let him tag along sometimes.

He needed to stop his brain from wandering. It was dangerous to dawdle in old memories under Veritaseum. “One of them cut a deal with me. He gave me his entire distribution network – magical signatures, passwords, client addresses, the magical checks in places – all of it, in exchange for money. He was the one betraying the vow, the curse only affects him.”

“Money?” Potter sounded suspicious. “These curses can maim permanently or cause debilitating pain for life. He was willing to undergo that for money?”

It wasn’t a proper Veritaseum question. After all, Draco couldn't answer for a third person's motivations.  But he didn't mind voicing what he knew.

"He was going to Azkaban for life. He needed the money. His son is still a second year at Hogwarts."

Potter didn’t say anything for such a long time, that Draco wondered if he was done. 

“Right, why tell me?” 

Draco’s brain lurched trying to find an answer to that vague question. Luckily, Potter seemed to realize his stupidity and hastily corrected the question.

"Why do you even care about Teddy? Why did you decide to tell me about him? Why not someone else?”

Ugh, still a terrible open-ended question. Were the rumours true that Potter a terrible Auror? He clearly wasn’t any good at interrogation.  But Draco could still work with this question. It was a blessing in disguise as Potter wasn’t bothering to ask for each and every one of the specific reasons. _Wouldn’t listing that out be fun?_

"Teddy is family," Draco said firmly.  _Well, extremely dubious family but still._ “You are his godfather. If Teddy is in trouble, you’ll take care of it.  I didn’t tell anyone else because they’d kill Teddy for being a werewolf.”

“No, they won’t!” Potter’s resistance to the truth was almost immediate.

 _That_ was no question. Draco continued to sit there serenely.  A born wolf, unheard of, that was also through his father connected to Greyback? Potter was an even bigger idiot if he thought the Ministry was going to let such a werespawn grow up like a normal child. Didn’t he know about the slaughter of werewolves across Britain since the War? The Anti-Werewolf Regulations?

Potter blessedly did not ask him to explain the legalities or prejudice against werewolves. Instead, his next question was a lot more concrete.

“Andromeda is keeping it a secret and making sure Teddy gets Wolfsbane. Why do you want me to interfere when she is already taking precautions?”

 _‘It is not a terrible question, well, for Potter anyway; given his appalling mediocrity in potions.’_ Professor Snape’s voice, this time around; Draco winced, why had all the dead voices in his head chosen today to comment on his life?

But this was his real chance. He needed to impress on Potter the truth; at least, enough, for him to check up on Teddy. Draco put up his strongest Occulumency shields so that he could gather up his thoughts to present them in the best way possible. It was somewhat of an unproven hypothesis, that an Occumulency shield would lend a Speaker's words greater conviction. He didn't quite believe it unless Aunt Bellatrix who had taught him Occulumency had meant to convey all that madness in her words all the time. 

“As a potion maker, I can confirm that Wolfsbane is a slow poison. It doesn’t just subdue your wolf. It poisons you. Even in an adult, the side effects from a few doses are quite bad. The long-term effects of Wolfsbane usage haven’t even been studied properly yet.  Using it on so young a child as Teddy is dangerous. What's worse, from the records I've got, it looks like Andromeda's been ordering more than the requisite dosage since two months. I put a stop to supply this month. But she's most likely getting it from some other source. It’s going to end in his death, if it continues.”

Before Potter could tell him he was wrong, Draco plowed ahead to answer the second question. The effects of Veritaseum were fast fading and he needed to say this when still under its influence for Potter to believe him.

“I want you to stop her from poisoning Teddy. You would be able to convince her to stop, to take alternative precautions especially when he is a child."

There. He'd done all that he could. Teddy would probably be brought up chained or shut up in a cage during the full moon, hating the wolf part of him.  It wasn't an ideal life. But whose life was ideal?

 _Probably Potter’s_ Draco thought morosely.

The pleasant glow that Veritaseum had spread over his body was fading away.  He hadn’t even realized his eyes had been unfocused and he grimaced as he felt the stupid smile that had been on his face since the truth serum had been administered. He closed his eyes waiting for the rosy glow that still permeated his vision to fade and then slowly opened his eyes to look at Potter.

 Potter was staring at Malfoy, seemingly without seeing him; his face set like he was trying to fight an Imperius.

“I still don’t believe you,” Potter burst out suddenly, taking a step forward and startling Draco badly. “but I am going to check up on them." He looked away from Draco as if ashamed that he felt the need to do this.

_Stubborn fuckwit._

Potter seemed to think of something as he quickly cast a lunar tempus. He checked the shining silver letters on the lunar timetable before grinning at Draco triumphantly.

“Malfoy, do you know what day it is? The full moon is tonight! If Teddy was suffering from lycanthropy and also from Wolfsbane's side effects, he would show symptoms!  I know how someone looks when they have been affected. This is why I know you are a lying ferret. I am his godfather, I would have noticed much earlier if something was wrong with him!”

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Potter was clearly having some sort of emotional breakdown at being an absentee godfather. Of course he knew it was full moon tonight. He’d known it would push Potter to act quickly.

"Potter, why don't you just check up on them? I really can't deal with more of your theatrics."  He didn't need to add the last bit. Why after, all this time, did he not have more of a self-preservation instinct?

Not surprisingly, Potter took a step towards him angrily.  As Draco tried to hide his cringing, Potter stopped short and stared at Draco.

“You’re coming with me.”

"What? Are you mad? You think my lovely aunt will let me through her wards?"

“Kreacher, get the Polyjuice potion.”  Potter said, ignoring Malfoy.

“No Potter! Why the hell do you need me to come with you?"

Potter advanced suddenly. He crouched down, so that he was at eye level with Draco and his hands came to rest on both of his knees. When Malfoy cracked open his eyes to look at him; Potter was scornful. 

“Isn’t it best that you convince me? Because the way I see it, I am going to show you how wrong you are and then-"  his words petered out, a jeering smile was on his face.

“Kreacher be bringing Polyjuice.” The house-elf was back, thankfully interrupting the exchange.

He really should have left this matter alone. Malfoy turned his face away from Potter, whose face promised such menace.

“Why are you so scared of me?" Potter said suddenly.  “You never were this scared of me before. Is it because I was able to kill V-“ 

“You pompous arse,” Draco cut in, angrier at his own inability to hide his reactions.  “I am not scared of you because of that savior crap. It’s because you will hit-" Draco stuttered to a stop.  Damn it, the truth serum must be still loosening his tongue.

Predictably, Potter laughed. “Why? Because we beat you up once back in Hogwarts? You beat me up too, you wanker! You're such a coward, still."

 "No, Potter, it's because you're a bloody Auror,"  Draco couldn’t help but retort, enjoying the way Potter flinched, his hands falling away.” and we all know how your lot loves to dole out physical torture!” 

Potter’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Yeah? Well, guess what? You bloody well deserve it for all that you’ve done!”

If not for the body bind, Draco knew he would have lashed out. He snapped his eyes shut and bit his tongue hard. 

 _‘Don’t you listen to him, Draco; we'll get ‘im. Just you wait.’_ He wasn’t even sure whose voice he heard this time. He was too busy trying to get his Occulumency shields up to calm down and not lash out at the god damn savior of the wizarding world

* * *

 

Draco only came out of his sulk by the time they'd side-apparated right outside Andromeda's wards. Potter drew whatever complicated signal rune that was built into the ward. As they waited for Andromeda to part the wards, Draco couldn’t resist asking, “Why didn’t we just floo in or apparate inside? Surely your entry isn’t invitation only?”

Draco gasped. He brought his fingers up to touch his mouth. The ginger moustache didn’t bother him as much as –

Potter who'd looked distinctively sheepish till just a moment ago, grinned. "Glad you’re paying attention.”

Draco didn't have a chance to respond as the wards parted and Andromeda Tonks appeared, looking slightly frazzled but smiling at Potter.

Draco swallowed and tried to smile. He could only hope that the git he was supposed to be had a winning smile.

“Harry dear, this is a surprise! Come in, come in. When did you get back? You didn’t tell me you were visiting when you firecalled this morning.” She smiled hesitantly at Draco before she turned around leading them into the house. Draco looked around, curious despite himself. This was his Aunt’s house but he’d of course never been here. One look at the cramped cheery living room and Draco knew it wasn’t a fit place for a werespawn. 

Potter didn’t let go of Draco’s arm till the wards were reset. He gave him a last warning look, before turning to speak to Andromeda.

 “Sorry to have dropped in without a warning. I got back this morning and ran into an old Hogwarts friend. Meet Ben Morris.” Potter said, lying through his teeth. “ Ben, this is Andromeda Tonks, whom you wanted to meet. ”

Andromeda brushed aside Potter’s apology but glanced at Draco curiously.

Draco took a deep breath and lied smoothly, “How do you do, Mrs. Tonks? Your daughter Nymphadora Tonks saved my life during the War. I just wanted to pay my respects.”

“That's so kind, thank you,” She said, her eyes softening. She pushed her silver-streaked dark hair back, before asking “you are American?”

"Half," Draco said firmly. Potter was definitely a sadistic bastard. “The accent comes and goes.”

She smiled at him, and it struck him Aunt Bella probably had the same smile when she had been less insane. Before Draco dug himself into a further pit of lies, Potter spoke up.

“Where’s Teddy? I feel like I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Oh, he’s just gone to sleep," Andromeda said. “Don’t you try and wake him up.  He was fussing last night and hardly slept.” She added with a tired fond smile catching Draco’s eyes “Teddy is a good boy but cranky like his mother.”

Potter instantly seemed worried and not suspicious. Stupid Wanker. “Is he sick? Do you think we should take him to a healer? You really should let me help out more. You look tired.” Draco stared at Potter aghast. Was this some stranger polyjuiced as Potter? He was clucking like a mother hen.

Andromeda laughed, shaking her head “Harry, he’s fine! Stop worrying.  I think I can handle my grandson after having raised a hellfire like Nymphadora.”She said it lightly but Draco was well versed of that particular tone in his mother's voice.  It was a clear signal to back off.

Harry flushed. Clearly, some nuances got through his thick skull. He mumbled through an apology before adding “I’ll just go quietly and take a peek at Teddy. I won’t wake him up.” He said, almost pleading.

 _‘Clearly, Potter isn’t as welcome as he would like in young Teddy’s life_.’  Snape in his head was right, but Draco didn’t have the time to feel gleeful to have his assumptions proven correct.

“I don’t think you need to worry about waking him up Potter,” Draco drawled before Andromeda came up with another excuse. He didn’t care how he sounded. He was American, they all drawled! He nodded towards the stairs, where he’d seen the small figure appear as Potter and Andromeda were talking, blinking down at them with big black solemn eyes. Draco had watched him warily as he climbed down slowly, one step at a time, grasping at the vertical railing;  his footsteps muffled by the carpeted stairs; he’d come to a stop at the first landing unnoticed till Draco had spoken up.

“Teddy!” Potter gushed. He strode up the steps to the first landing, knelt and opened his hands out for a hug. The boy shuffled into the hug, yawning loudly as Harry gathered him up. His hair was a light brown and ruffled from sleep. His cheeks pink tinged. He was soft and plump in the way of most toddlers. The boy looked utterly normal. Potter was never going to believe him now.

Draco disgusted turned towards Andromeda, who was predictably looking fondly at all the cooing. He needed to get away from all these besotted people! He couldn’t help but churn through his thoughts moodily.  Maybe he was wrong? Maybe werespawns reacted differently to wolfsbane? Maybe Potter wouldn’t murder him for this? Maybe, just maybe, he would finally be able to shake off the feeling of unease that had gripped his chest since he’d seen the distribution list.

“Mr. Morris, are you feeling okay. You look a little bit pale. Mr. Morris?”

It took Draco a while to react, blinking at Andromeda wondering who she was talking to. He waved away her concern, fighting the nausea of the Polyjuice. Time was almost up; he would have to get out of here, quick.

It was mainly to distract her concern, that he asked, “I understand your grandson is a Metamorphagus like his late mother?" He could see from the corner of his eye that Potter was showing Teddy a wand like it was a new curio. He peered at it closely, only half listening to Andromeda's explanation. Wait, that wasn't a new wand; it was Draco's old Hawthorn wand! That wanker had kept it all these years! Did he know how difficult it was for him to get a new one? 

He forced his attention back to Andromeda who was getting to the end of- whatever she had been saying. “…so Nymphadora turned into her cousin Adam and went off with Ted’s sister to Wales. It was extraordinary the likeness!  But as I was saying Teddy’s ability isn’t that advanced - a few changes in hair colour; that sort of thing.” She shrugged, and Draco nodded along. Merlin, he was tired and doubly so as he knew he wouldn't get to rest anytime soon.   

"Harry?" Draco's attention snapped back to the landing when he heard the quiet questioning lilt from the child.

Potter spoke the counter spell softly but Draco heard it so loud and clear that he might as well have shouted.

“Finite incantation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would be deeply appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

It happened in an instant. The familiar sleepy cuddly figure of Teddy was gone. Frighteningly thin, much smaller, this boy's eyes stood out hauntingly against the dark dull patches around his eyes. There were bruises and cuts littered all over the too pale skin. He looked like a wild young thing.

_Malfoy had been right. Malfoy had been right all along._

Harry hadn’t realized he was reaching out with his hand until he felt a stinging hex hit his fingers. He jerked his hand away wincing and looked down through the railing to see Andromeda Tonks, wand out, looking up horrified. She was shouting at him to get away but he only heard Teddy.

“Not Harry!” Teddy’s shriek was inhuman.

Harry's brain caught up with his eyes and he reached out uselessly to grab air as Teddy suddenly catapulted onto the banister and flung himself over.

Andromeda screamed.

Harry scrambled down the stairs even as he took in the sight of Andromeda flat on the ground, her leg bent at an awkward angle and Teddy, Merlin, Teddy who seemed to be wavering between child and wolf, beating his frail fists against her chest, and the next second pushing his blood covered claws into Andromeda’s face. Her snapped wand lay useless next to her.

“No Teddy, You mustn't!" He was almost there. He hurled himself forward but was literally stopped midair as an arm tightened around his chest and pulled him back.

“No! Let me go!” he cried, resisting like he was possessed by a pixie spirit even as he was held in an iron grip against Malfoy. 

“Snap out of it Potter! Potter! Listen to me. You won’t be able to save Teddy like this.” Harry needed to get to Teddy. He elbowed Malfoy hard, but he still didn’t let go.

“Teddy! Teddy!” Harry freed a hand and held it out to Teddy.

“Potter! He’s going to attack if you…damn it, Potter. Call him back gently!" Malfoy groaned suddenly and Harry felt more than saw as Malfoy polyjuiced back behind him. His back crawled as he felt Malfoy’s skin melt and rearrange, the muscles pressed against his back bunching and rearranging.  Malfoy’s grip slackened and Harry slipped out, as Malfoy dropped to the ground.

He took a step forward towards Teddy who had thankfully stopped and was watching the exchange between him and Malfoy with feverish intensity.

He took another step forward slowly now, trying not to notice the blood on Teddy’s fingers. A hand shot out and caught his ankle though before he could take another step.

“Let Go!”  Harry screamed in frustration, twisting around, raising his wand.

"No!" Teddy’s snarl had Harry whipping around to face him. The trace of recognition was gone from his Godson’s eyes and as Teddy came at him claws out, Harry was for the first time truly deeply frightened by him.   

He tried to shield himself with his hands but Malfoy yanked him back hard and bounded into Teddy’s hurtling path. He caught Teddy by his waist and swung him up and just held him there – suspended midair,  ignoring the way Teddy twisted like a hellcat in his grip, brandishing his claws and snapping his elongated fangs.  Teddy twisted suddenly to bite down on Malfoy’s wrist and Malfoy snarled right into Teddy’s face.

The snarl was dark and vicious and curled and reverberated around them all as if Malfoy had cast a sonorous. It made the hair on Harry’s back stand and he took several steps back reflexively.  The snarl had been inhuman.

The effect on his grandson was most telling.  Teddy went limp almost instantly. His head bowed, his arms slackened to his side - he was trembling like a leaf.

Teddy looked up confused when Malfoy slowly tucked him closer, growling a low rumbling sound. He did it again almost soothingly as he dropped his head slightly to rest against the crown of Teddy’s hair. Malfoy continued to growl softly as Teddy hesitantly brought his hands up to grab fistfuls of Malfoy’s robe. Finally, when Malfoy gently slipped one hand around the child to hold him securely and brought another to rest on his head, a dam seemed to break. Loud heart wrenching entirely human sobs as Teddy tucked his face into Malfoy’s chest and began to cry in earnest.

Harry’s eyes flickered towards Andromeda, who was lying on her side now, curled into herself, crying piteously. He knew he should go check on her and then and then…He tried to calm the hammering of his heart so that he could figure out what the bloody hell to do next.

* * *

In the end, he followed Malfoy’s lead numbly. Teddy had fallen asleep and Malfoy deposited him on the couch, wrapping him into his outer robes. Teddy’s features kept flickering between boy and wolf weakly from time to time.

Harry levitated Andromeda, who had passed out, into the main bedroom upstairs and cast some basic first aid medic spells he’d learned to staunch the bleeding and alleviate the pain from the broken leg. Then he stared at the slashing gorges on Andromeda’s face, and the small bite mark on Andromeda’s wrist. _They needed to get an infusion of silver and dittany for the bite quickly._  His head was buzzing but he felt paralyzed.

“There’s a healer I know. She’s discrete. I am going to ask her to come.” Malfoy said, cutting into his frozen state. There wasn’t anything _wolf-ish_ about Malfoy now. He was scowling at Andromeda’s prone form like she was dirt.

Oddly, it made Harry feel better. He’d seen this expression on Malfoy’s face, countless times over the years. It was the snarling and growling that Harry didn’t know how to handle.

He’d been half worried about the kind of healer whom Malfoy could call for such an occasion. He knew from his Auror days, that it was possible to get healers outside of St Mungo’s who promised discretion. But most were dubious back alley fraudsters, out to make a quick profit off the truly desperate. 

One look at Helena Greengrass, who stepped out of the floo, not five minutes later, however, dispelled at least that one worry. Her grey hair was pinned back in an elaborate but neat bun, her St Mungo’s orange robes didn’t have a speck of soot and as she took in the upturned side tables, the blood splattered on the carpet, and finally, at Teddy on the couch, her eyes were cool and professional.

She set to work immediately. She wouldn’t let Harry levitate Teddy and instead had Malfoy carry him to his bed upstairs. She cast several diagnostic charms and even as the swirling colours coalesced into neat notes and charts on her diagnostic parchment, she went to work on Andromeda.

"It will be a while before I have definite answers. Wait outside," she said, firmly putting an end to Harry's hovering.

He wandered back to the living room couch and sat down heavily, his head resting in hands, exhausted. Physically, he knew there wasn’t a scratch on him but -

_I should have known_. The bitter truth threatened to overwhelm him He’d always felt guilty about Teddy. He had cared for the family Lupin had managed to build even in the misery of the War. It gave him hope. It had hit him especially hard, then, that when the war was finally over Teddy was an orphan. Just like him.

He knew it affected Teddy the most, but it sure felt as if fate was mocking him as well.

He had been determined Teddy would grow up differently from him. That he would be the godfather Sirius had wanted to be – would have been if-

Harry pressed the heel of his palm hard against his eyes trying to stop old regrets, old ghosts from overwhelming him.

But when it had come to Teddy, it wasn’t just about him and what he felt.

Andromeda had lost her entire family and to cope with her grief, she’d taken Teddy and withdrawn to stay with her husband’s extended muggle family. Harry had respected her wishes and left them alone in the initial months. When Andromeda had come back to her old home, Harry had offered to move in, to help with Teddy. He would have put his Auror training on hold. He really had meant it. It wasn’t a sacrifice. He was already starting to feel disillusioned with the Aurors back then.

Andromeda had laughed good-naturedly even as she refused. He remembered seeing Teddy playing in her lap that day. His hair turning jet black like Harry’s even as his throat stretched in an attempt to imitate Andromeda’s laugh. His metamorphic abilities had been amazing from the beginning. It had added to his doubts when she’d tried to brush away Teddy’s abilities in front of Malfoy.

_“Harry, I’ll be fine! If I need help, I promise I’ll ask. I can’t have you putting your life on hold.”_

But Auror training had eaten up all his time and there wasn't a lot he could do for a baby if he wasn't there at regular hours to feed, bathe and rock him to sleep. He’d felt useless.

Ron hadn’t understood why. _“He’s too young now mate, for you to do anything useful.  Wait, till you buy him his first trainee broom. Andromeda will be left in the dust. Nothing beats a broom!”_

Hermione had been more perceptive. She’d waited till Ron was out of earshot and had said kindly, _“I think Andromeda is a lot like Molly; a bit of a control freak, when it comes to caring for her brood. You may have to struggle along.”_

He'd tried to visit as much as he could but had increasingly felt like he was being a nuisance. He was always dropping in when Andromeda was in a rush or during Teddy’s nap time and she was always hesitant to let Harry take Teddy out alone.

He’d finally sat her down and tried to hash it out last year. Surely, it would be good if he took Teddy off her hands for a few hours every now and then? But Andromeda had said sadly, "I am sorry Harry. It's just- it's just you're still a target for those rogue death eaters and the Dark Lord's sympathizers, Harry. And your Auror job, I can't-" and she'd turned away tears in her eyes. "I just need him to be safe. I can't lose him as well."

Harry had stopped pushing after that.

He convinced himself it was for the best despite his guilt at not spending enough time with him. Teddy was happy; he was safe; that’s all that mattered.

And so Harry had messed up. He’d failed Teddy; failed Lupin.

But Andromeda – he didn’t understand. What was she trying to do? It wasn’t just about feeding him too much Wolfsbane anymore. Teddy had been covered in glamours and calming charms. He remembered the furious anger with which Teddy had attacked her.

Something had gone very wrong there.

* * *

 

“Most of Mrs. Tonks injuries are largely superficial and have been healed.  The lacerations on her face are more difficult to mend but they are healing nevertheless.  There is nothing we can do about the scarring, naturally. I am confident that the bite will not be fatal. The child is too young and the bite too small for a poisonous reaction. However, as a precaution, the usual infusion of silver and dittany has been applied to the bite.” Healer Greengrass’s words were curt. She wasn’t looking at them, still busy scanning Teddy’s diagnostic parchment.

 "Now about Teddy-"

“Wait, what about the danger of turning? The bite could still turn her into a werewolf, right? ” Harry blurted. The Healer looked decidedly unimpressed at being interrupted.

_Well, she can go shove it._   Harry didn’t care what she thought of him.  The full moon was tonight.

"Mr. Potter, despite the increased paranoia of the magical community, the fact remains that a bite can only result in lycanthropy transfer, if, and only if, it is on the night of a full moon.” 

“YEAH? WELL, TELL THAT TO LAVENDER BROWN!” He needed to calm down but he hated her superior tone. Besides, he knew for a fact that Lavender had been bitten the night of the final battle by Greyback. It hadn’t been a full moon that night either and yet Lavender had transformed the very next night. Luckily, she’d been isolated by some overzealous ministry official but the precaution had saved lives.

Healer Greengrass didn’t react to his outburst but answered with the same tone as before. “Lavender Brown is an exception.”  Here, she looked at Malfoy, who'd shaken his head in disgust when Harry had shouted but hadn’t interrupted.  He nodded for her to continue, “The Dark Lord was keen to harness Greyback’s abilities beyond the period that a full moon afforded. Given his extraordinary magical prowess and also daresay Greyback’s own exceptional lycanthropic abilities, it is not surprising he succeeded in this endeavor. ”

_Of course, the healer that Malfoy finds is impressed by Voldemort’s ‘extraordinary magical prowess’._

But the explanation made sense. As she’d spoken, Harry remembered vaguely Hermione saying something similar while ranting about the new anti-werewolf legislation. He flushed. Why hadn’t he remembered it before?

Healer Greengrass was still explaining. “However, what the general public fails to appreciate is that it was an exceptional ability that Greyback possessed only during the final battle. It ended with the Dark Lord’s demise as is evident from the fact that one of the Aurors he attacked while incarcerated wasn’t affected. In any case, it would have ended with Greyback’s execution. It is highly flawed to use this unfortunate exception to harass and vilify the entire werewolf population.”

Harry couldn’t miss the empathy in her words. The anger he’d felt was replaced with confusion. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration taking a shaky breath. Harry had a sickening realization that he had put off hearing about Teddy to focus on a detail that had proven pointless in the end.  He sucked at being a godfather! He was going about this all the wrong way!

“er, sorry,” he shot a quick glare at Malfoy who sneered at his poor attempt at politeness, “I mean, I am sorry and um thank you.” His words felt hollow but it was his best effort.

“It's always more difficult for relatives to emotionally deal, Mr. Potter, when a child is involved." Her tone was the same but the words sounded like a peace offering. "Now about the child," she continued briskly, "I am afraid it doesn’t look good. The copious exposure to wolfsbane itself has hurt him badly.  Mrs. Tonks has also used some other potions and spells that I cannot identify which has also made his magic highly unstable. The physical flickering between human and wolf features, for example, seems more a sign of the instability of his metamorphic magic rather than any overt display of his lycanthropy.”

Malfoy was already agreeing to her words. “He wasn’t turning into a werewolf. You always possess the speed and the strength but you can't turn into a wolf except on a full moon night.”

Malfoy hesitated, then continued "I think given how stressed out he was, he flipped and threw a massive tantrum.” He added hotly seeing Harry’s disbelief “Granted, it was the werespawn version of a tantrum but I was watching from below and he didn't attack anyone at first. He reacted when Andromeda threw that hex at you, Potter.”

Harry remembered the stinging in his fingers, moments before Teddy had jumped and also - Andromeda’s snapped wand!

 “and he only attacked me when I raised my wand at you! He thought I was going to hurt you!” Harry said excitedly.  It made sense! A huge weight lifted off his chest. It had hurt to see that hatred in Teddy’s eyes.

“Yes, that would make sense,” Healer Greengrass murmured, warming up to the idea. “He turned on his abuser, Mrs Tonks,” Both of them flinched at the word, but she didn’t notice, “and he cared enough to attempt to protect you as well, Draco. I wonder if it was because he felt a sense of kinship with you?”  Her voice had gone soft with wonder.

_Definitely a Werewolf Enthusiast._

"the prognosis?" Malfoy said, stopping her from getting sidetracked.

“Right, of course, this is good news. We can safely assume he cannot transform at will. However, I am still left with the problem of determining what other potions she was using ?”  She trailed off shaking her head. She looked at Harry’s increasingly troubled face but her thoughts seemed far away. “I do not believe she meant to hurt him, even though that is no real comfort. She was trying to achieve something.”

“cure his lycanthropy, of course. it’s the sort of batshit crazy thing people do” spat Malfoy.  Harry started at the fury in Malfoy’s voice. _He cares about Teddy._ Harry wasn’t sure why, but Malfoy definitely cared.

The Healer didn’t seem fazed. “Yes, but what was the method to her madness? I need to understand that! With the full moon tonight, it’s extremely important that we flush out the elements that are poisoning him. ”

“Ask her,” Harry said grimly. “I still have Veritaseum.”

Malfoy was already agreeing with him, but Greengrass shook her head. “She’s in shock from the attack. We will not get anything useful out of her using Veritaseum. There is, however, another way,” She looked at Harry appraisingly now.

Harry wanted to scream. Why didn’t she just tell him? Slytherins and their secrecy!

“I only hesitate because the method is illegal. What the aurors like to call the Dark Arts. You must understand why I need to tread cautiously, Mr. Potter. As an auror, you can later easily condemn its use. It would invite an Azkaban sentence for me. ” 

Harry knew even more intimately what Dark Arts could do since he’d become an auror. Some of the things he’s seen.  He unclenched his teeth and asked, “Will it cause damage to her permanently?”  Dark Arts _always_ exacted a price.

“There are two side effects. The first, she may lose a few recent memories or at the very least they may be dulled. The second, her dreams from now on will only be nightmares. ”

Nightmares. He understood well enough the toll they could take. He wished fiercely Hermione and Ron were here. Hermione would have researched. She would have found another way. And Ron would have argued against it.  But full moon was tonight and it was up to him to make the choice now. 

“Do it,” He said. When it looked like she wanted some more reassurance he added. “I quit being an Auror last month.” _Right after the Spring Riots,_ though he should have quit much earlier.  They were both staring at him confused.  “The Ministry decided to run the story of my temporary leave to manage public relations.” 

Healer Greengrass nodded slowly, then convinced, turned to Malfoy. “You will assist, Draco? We need a close blood relation. “

“of course,” Malfoy dragged his curious eyes away from Harry and followed her to Andromeda’s room.

* * *

 

The spell, Harry decided, wasn’t that bad. Healer Greengrass performed a piece of advanced memory charm to block off some of Andromeda's memories of the day.  She then pushed, so to speak, Andromeda’s mind into a fake dreamscape.

She had explained the process earlier.

_We add the emotion that she wants to tell someone her secret. Then we make her believe that she is going to meet the person to whom she is most likely to confide her secret. When awake, she may never do so. But in dreams, we are vulnerable._

_“Then when Malfoy questions her, she believes it’s that person?”_

_“Precisely, she confides in him and we learn her reasoning.”_

Shimmering strands of magic had emerged from the Healer’s wand as the spell had progressed and wrapped around both Andromeda and Draco’s head. There was no clear signal but the Healer whispered for Harry's benefit, "It’s starting."

Harry gasped, as the web around Andromeda glowed brightly. Her eyes shot open and her mouth curved into a smile. It pulled at the healing slashes on her face in a way that made them tear and bleed again. Harry forced himself to watch.

Though there was no sound, Andromeda's mouth began to move as if she was speaking _.   “A physical manifestation of her dreamscape conversation.” Greengrass had explained._ There was no real change on Draco's face, but as the 'conversation' progressed, his hands clenched into fists and he seemed to be fighting the urge to bolt.

Abruptly, the strands disappeared, and even as Andromeda slumped back into her bed, Draco was flying across the room, to the built-in chest of drawers. He cast a quick Alohomora, wrenched out the second draw completely and felt along the narrow wedge of space, wrenching out a small red velvet jewellery box. He carried it back, pulled none too gently at Andromeda’s hand, casting a quick cutting spell on it. He pressed the bloody gash on her hand against the lock. As the lid sprang open, Harry could see a stack of letters and small vials.  Healer Greengrass was already reaching in but Malfoy shook his head sharply, then laced his fingers with Andromeda's before grabbing the letters and the vials. He dropped them in the Healer's outstretched palm before finally stepping back.

“That’s all her correspondence. She was writing to some complete quack who was offering her a way to cure lycanthropy and accepting her donations for his continued research. Something about how killing Teddy’s metamorphic abilities would kill the lycanthropy in him. Utter bullshit, ” Malfoy said. He swayed suddenly and Harry caught him before he could topple over.

“Malfoy?” Harry tightened his grip as the blonde struggled to stand weakly before letting his body slump against Harry.

“He’s just exhausted from the spell, Mr. Potter, put him to bed. Yes, this is most useful,” Healer Greengrass murmured without a second glance. She was already engrossed, flipping through the letters with feverish intensity and holding up some of the vials to peer at their contents.

* * *

 

Draco woke gradually. Nearly seven _hours till full moon_ , his internal clock reminded him, so he’d been out for nearly two hours. He felt sluggish. The spell hadn’t been pleasant for him. Dream Andromeda had looked like Aunt Bella but  sounded like his mother.  

“Malfoy, you alright?” Potter’s dull voice carried across the room. Draco stared blearily at Potter. He slid his legs out from under the comforter that had been piled on top of him and sat up sideways, his legs dangling over the muted cream floor carpet. His shoes were lying haphazardly next to the bed. He didn’t remember taking them off. He ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly at their sensitivity. Everything would only magnify as it got closer to the night.

“What happened?”

“Greengrass was able to get the information she wanted. She’s started Teddy on an antidote that attacks the poisonous stuff including wolfsbane in his blood and purges them. From the side effects, Andromeda described in her letters, it looks like Teddy’s own magic was rejecting the potions. He’s been…” Harry swallowed before continuing. “He’s been vomiting, having high fevers and chills, refusing food, and there have been more incidents of aggressive accidental magic. “

Thus, the use of glamours and emotion dampener charms. She had been trying to keep Teddy under control. 

“what’s the problem then?” Potter had some more news. Bad news. Draco was a bit out of it, but he knew it wasn’t a good sign that Potter was lounging here miserably and not at Teddy’s bedside.

Potter sighed. “According to her, we have to get it all out of his system by full moon or else it may…prove fatal. But if she increases the intensity of the purge, his body is going to be under even more strain. The transformation will be that much more severe. The pain and stress will make the wolf much more vicious; it will want to end it all by tearing itself apart. “

_‘What a waste.’_ His father said; his voice dripping in offhand disgust. Draco wasn’t sure whether he meant Teddy’s state or Draco’s attempts at saving him.

“Malfoy?" Draco dragged himself away from his thoughts to more pressing demands. Why was Potter here? Shouldn't he be spending his time with Teddy?

“She said…she said that there was something you could do. Something you’d managed to do with your own transformation - that you could ensure he kept his humanity when he transformed.”

Draco’s brain seemed to catch up in an instant. Damn Greengrass to hell for telling Potter. Potter didn’t know what he was asking. _The Hunt._

"No," he said. _No! No! No! he was never doing that again._

“But Malfoy-“

“No, Potter, I won’t do it. Fuck off.” _He couldn’t do it again._

 Potter predictably turned livid. Draco braced himself even as he felt Potter’s angry footsteps come closer. He was wrenched off the bed and Potter clutched at the collar of his shirt yanking him closer even as he raised his wand threateningly. Distantly, Draco could hear the threats and insults that Potter was spewing.

“No? That’s it? What is wrong with you, Malfoy? You'd let a 4-year-old die? Such a coward still!  After all the shit you've pulled, don't you have a conscience?"

Draco felt the last of the wooziness from the spell slipping away. He had been very good, at keeping his instincts under control, especially given the fast approaching full moon. He tried to reason calmly that Potter was an idiot. That he didn’t understand anything. But that was his wand! His wand that Potter was so carelessly using to threaten him! And his control was fraying.

Potter was still screaming obscenities when Draco snapped. He curled his fingers around Potter’s left wrist and pressed.

Potter went down on his knees in an instant from the intense pain. A startled groan escaping Potter’s lips, even as his right hand opened and the wand dropped, only to be caught neatly by Draco. Letting the soothing thrill of his old wand wash over him,  Draco crouched down to smirk at Potter, who was struggling to get away from the iron clad grip that Draco had on his wrist. Draco pushed down the temptation to break all of his wrist bones. Instead, he pushed Potter’s hands behind his back, securing both of the wrists in his left hand. He yanked Potter closer, boxing him in between his legs to stop the jerk from kneeing him, and loomed over him. His wand, he held in his right hand, almost as an afterthought.

_What a head rush._ Draco thought even as he watched Potter flushed wild with anger, writhing uselessly to get away from him.  Draco had never used his werewolf strength on another human being before. All throughout his trial and later solitary confinement, he had let the aurors manhandle him, clinging desperately to his self-control. It’s why he feared the aurors so much. He knew that if he snapped and attacked the aurors, even in self-defense, he’d be killed. After the War, with the fear of werewolves on an all-time high, the aurors had standing orders to curse first and ask questions later. Draco had fought desperately for self-control. His family had done so much to make sure his secret was safe and he had to survive for them.

_But Potter already knows! And he can’t tell anyone! Not when his own godson’s a werewolf!_ The thought of Teddy sobered him up though and he snapped at Potter.

"I don't give a fuck what you think about me, Potter.  I won’t do it.” _I can’t do it._ He didn’t say that out loud.

Draco almost looked forward to all of the anger and threats that would surely follow but the fight seemed to go out of Potter almost immediately. He let his head fall and his arms went slack, and Draco had to shift to better center himself from toppling over the now slumped figure.

“Do you want me to beg?” Draco stared in surprise, even as Potter said in a low voice. “I can beg if you want. I can vow anything you want me to vow. I can…I can apologize for all our old fights," Potter's raised his head, and Draco nearly let go of Potter when he saw the glimmer of tears in Potter's eyes. “I know you care about Teddy. She says you're the only one who can help. Malfoy please,"

"Shut up," Draco looked away.

_‘Why Draco, isn't this you've always wanted? The great Harry Potter brought so low and desperate begging you for help.’_ Snape’s voice curled amused in his head. He had thought Potter would only get angrier at being refused. That he would rant and rage about how evil he was not to want to save a child. But this…

“Please, Malfoy, I'll do anything!"

Is this how his parents had been towards the end of the War? Is this how he had been? Begging, scrapping and crying before the Dark Lord trying to save each other? He shuddered.

Before Potter started again, Draco said softly.

“Potter I am serious. I don’t know what she told you but the Hunt is rarely successful. It’s too dangerous.”

Potter’s words were rushed. “She said you had done it before. That you’d survived. You can make it less dangerous for Teddy –“

Draco was going to scream in frustration. He wrenched his hands away from Potter and strode away. Potter not acting like Potter was upsetting. "Potter, you don’t understand.   It’s the Hunt. The real danger if we do this will be for you!” he said finally, turning towards Potter.

He perhaps should have reworded that. Potter, being the perfect Saviour that he was, broke out into a smile the next instant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who sent kudos and comments my way. This story refuses to go away so I am going to be definitely continuing. The writing is a bit shoddy but I just wanted to get it out
> 
> Two werewolf reveals! Did anyone see it coming (I mean other than from perhaps the tags!)  
> Any feedback is deeply appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

> _The woods at the back end of the Malfoy Estate had started growing at an alarming rate 6 months after the War, spilling into the muggle woods adjoining it.  All signs pointed to a fairy wood in the making. The Ministry had shuffled the brief from the Department of Magical Forestry to Department of Magical Creatures for three months after which, as a compromise, Melvin Margoyles,  junior officer of the Landscaping Division, of the Department of the Magical Fauna had been sent to investigate. He came back in tears. "She bloody lied to the Dark Lord! You think she's going to tell me the truth? " Narcissa Malfoy flat out refused to do anything about it. The Ministry had in their wisdom decided that Draco Malfoy, her son, the new Lord of the Manor should be put in solitary confinement away from the Manor. She was a Black, she had no authority to turn out the fairy squatters or even stop them from expanding the Malfoy woods. Of course, the Ministry could try and reason with Oberon’s lot if they wanted.  The Ministry wanted to do no such thing. Draco knew she’d made a deal with the fairy folk, though the terms were a mystery to him as well. The woods were part of his homecoming gift when he’d been released. His first day back, still raw, he’d asked what she felt at the sight of them. “Pride,” She’d answered promptly. “I looked it up. I am the first Malfoy to expand the Malfoy Estate in 600 years.” The gleam in her eyes had made him laugh for the first time that day._

 

“Draco, where have you been? I’ve been worried with the full-“  His mother had finally noticed the small swaddled child Draco held in his arms. Before she could ask, there was another pop as Kit, one of their house elves, appeared with Potter.  Potter stumbled just the slightest bit, but righted next to him, and nodded at his mother.

_Right, so much for hoping mother fails to notice the presence of Boy Wonder and Baby Werewolf in their home._

“Draco?” she asked, dragging her eyes away from Potter.

Teddy, however, prevented any further questioning by turning blue in his arms.

“Ugh, he’s going to be sick again. Kit get the…”

But his mother conjured up a wide brown basin that hovered close by as Teddy upended more of the magical residue from the purge. It was dark red in colour; it disappeared even as it hit the basin. Teddy was already asleep by the end of it. He looked awful, even worse that when Potter had first lifted the glamours.

“You should have flooed. You know that apparating is harder on a child, especially a sick one.” Narcissa said, as she vanished the basin. "Put him to bed in Draco's old nursery, Kit. The bed there will be a better fit.” She stared coolly at Potter, who was hovering uselessly, as Kit levitated Teddy out of Draco's arms.  "Perhaps, Potter would like to go with the child.”

Potter, who would have liked nothing better, hurried away behind Kit, without another word.

 _Coward_. Draco thought morosely. But he had been the one who'd told Potter earlier that he had better shut up and let Draco handle it.

Except no one handled his mother.

He moved away from the fireplace towards one of the cream sofas that littered the redecorated drawing room. Mother had undertaken extensive renovations, in parts of the Manor that the Death Eaters had frequented; like she was trying to vanish away their traces. She'd been mostly successful except the newness of these rooms tended to trip him more. He was starting to feel prickly all over. There wasn’t a lot of time left and he hadn’t even explained anything to Potter yet. He took a deep breath and decided to just get it over with.  “I wasn’t sure our floo wards would let us through. We are coming from Andromeda’s place.”

His mother didn’t react. Draco, however, could see the rigid line of her shoulders.

 “Mother,” he was going to come clean quickly. She hated it when he stalled. “It’s Teddy, her grandson. He’s a werewolf.” He didn’t have time to appreciate the fact that she only looked shocked and not horrified. “She’d gone bonkers. She poisoned him trying to cure his lycanthropy and Teddy attacked her. Now, bloody Potter wants to be the willing sacrifice so that we can save Teddy by setting up a Hunt but I think it’s a terrible plan.” He wasn’t whining at the end. He wasn’t.

 “Is she dead?” she asked finally, her voice grim.

“what?” It took him a second to realise she was referring to Andromeda. “No, she's going to be all right." _Physically, at least._

“Is she...is she as bad as Bella?”

 Draco paused, searching for the right words. Maybe he should have been clearer about her only remaining sister. Estranged or not.

He walked over to her and held her hands, which were cold despite the fire. She still wouldn't look at him. He remembered the things Andromeda had told him in the dreamscape. “No, she’s not mad, not in the way of Aunt Bella.” He said.  “She hasn’t fully recovered from the War. Teddy was all she had left and she was frightened for him.” _and of him_ though she probably wouldn’t admit it. “she was a bit too desperate to save him, you know?”  He said gently. It wasn’t an excuse for what she’s done, but he was speaking to reassure his mother, not Andromeda.

His mother was quiet as she listened to his explanation but smiled slightly at the end. “Oh, don’t I know that desperation?” She lifted her trembling hand to place it on his cheek. He was a head taller than her now. It had hit him with a pang when she’d hugged him right after his confinement.

“Who is with her?” She dropped her hand and moved away.

“Helena Greengrass for now; I was going to send Kit to keep an eye on her for the night.”

“I will go,” It wasn’t a request. Draco could only nod. Potter would probably throw a fit if he knew. He obviously wasn’t going to tell Potter. He watched moodily as Kit appeared with a small bag of her essentials and she left instructions to Kit about the Manor.

As she made to leave, he couldn’t help but ask, “Mother, about the Hunt. You…you don’t think it’s a bad idea?”

She laughed to his surprise. “You won’t hear me saying this very often, Draco, but Lucius was right. You would never let anything hurt your family. ”

“But it is bloody Potter!” he called after her, confused but she’d already disappeared into the green fire.

* * *

 

“That's a lot of blood” Harry said weakly, needing to state the obvious. He shivered, as goosebumps broke out all over his skin, originating from his left knee, where Malfoy was tracing another rune on to his bare skin. They were a little way into the woods behind Malfoy’s house and while the dense foliage, meant no one else was likely to chance upon them, he felt acutely self-conscious.  He should really be worrying about the hundred-odd Dark Arts regulations he was breaking. And yet, all he could think was how embarrassing it was to be standing nearly naked in the middle of the fairy woods with Malfoy of all people finger painting all over him.

He winced. _That_ really was not the description he would give to his friends. If he _ever_ got a chance to tell them, that is. It all depended on the vague ill-defined plan he had of living through the night and _not ending up shredded._ It wasn’t even Malfoy exaggerating the gruesome fallouts if things went wrong. _It was the Hunt_. Until a few hours back, Harry had thought the whole purpose of the Hunt was the slaughter. The Daily Prophet had milked the story of Fenrir’s hunts in gruesome detail for weeks at end leading up to his execution.

He shivered again.

“I don’t know why you’re so squeamish, Potter. I am the one suffering blood loss.” Malfoy had a point. He’d cast a spell on his index and forefinger so that the blood swelled steadily through the cuts as he used his fingers to trace the intricate runic pattern onto Potter’s bare skin. It was the first step in preparation for the Hunt. The runes were double-edged; they'd offer some degree of protection from the transformed werewolves but would also be a shining beacon drawing them to him.

Malfoy had surprisingly wanted to give him all the information possible. He’d buried Harry in old runic texts, several scrolls of translations, and all the literature he’d collected on the Hunts. He’d then proceeded to look horrified when Harry had pointed out he was never going to get through all of it in the few hours remaining and maybe Malfoy could just tell him the highlights.

_“Wait, let me get this straight. You’re going to willingly let me magically truss you up as a sacrifice without understanding the death trap you are walking into?”_

_“Wouldn’t be the first time.”_

_“Potter, I don’t care if you’ve lived your life like a sheep raised to slaughter. I am not letting you do this without the information. ”_

Thankfully, Malfoy had stopped throwing esoteric books at him; instead, he had launched into an equally complicated explanation of it all.

Still, Malfoy had agreed that there was no way he could cover all the ancient runes involved in the ritual. Harry just didn’t have the grounding for it, having never taken the subject in Hogwarts. And yet, as Draco finished the symbol on his knee with two semi-circular arcs and a downward stroke, Harry realized he knew the symbol.

“Protection,” That was the main branch the rune stood for. “to protect me from the dangers afoot; to mark me with strength and agility when I run.” He felt the magic coalesce around the symbols on his knees as he spoke and set into his skin. He had never even seen that rune before.

Malfoy had warned him things would be strange earlier. _"The magic of the Hunt isn't predictable, Potter. It's not wand-cast where there is a definite end result. You're mixing your intent and magic with the instincts and magic of a werewolf under a full moon. Sure, we're following a set of instructions, but the way it will work, if it works, isn't set in stone. It supposed to change the werewolf but it affects the other person involved as well."_

_Great, so the Hunt’s going to teach him runes.  And all he had to do in return was run semi-naked through the forest and let werewolves chase him down._

Malfoy rubbed his hand over the finished symbol in satisfaction which warmed under his touch. He moved on to drawing the next symbol which was right at Harry’s navel. He felt his muscles twitch and move away as Malfoy’s fingers swept over them and he clamped down on the involuntary gasp at the light touch. Malfoy only huffed, put his left hand firmly on Harry’s hip to hold him in place and began to draw the next rune.

Harry tried hard not to squirm. He’d always thought Dark Arts was always about being, well, dark and terrible. Why hadn’t anyone mentioned how awkward it could be _?_

“When did you get bit?” he asked in need of a distraction.  Malfoy’s fingers stilled and he glared up at Harry. But Harry didn’t back off.  They were supposed to try and get along, anyway. Wasn’t that one of their impossible issues to try and sort before the hunt?

_“The hunt traditionally involves a newly turned werewolf and a human to whom they are close. The runes alone only really offer surface level protection. It’s the connection between the two people that establishes the link. Think about that Potter. All the myths refer to relatives, parent-children, siblings, husband-wife, friends, lovers.”_

_“It shouldn’t be a problem with Teddy. He’ll recognize me.”_ Harry had insisted, not letting himself doubt it. _“And you’re only there to help Teddy aren’t you? You’ll have control. This one isn’t about you and me.”_

_“Theoretically,” Malfoy had waved his hand in frustration, as he’d answered. “ theoretically, I will have control, Potter. I haven’t run with a human since my first transformation to know for certain. And I don’t even remember that one properly.”_

Malfoy now shifted uncomfortably on his knees, then dropped his head and sighed. “Night of the last battle. Fenrir realized that Mother had betrayed the Dark Lord. He came after me," His fingers unconsciously tightened against Harry's hip. "Maybe I fought him off or someone else did. But, with all the confusion, I don't really remember what happened."

“And you slipped away and completed the hunt? That was quick thinking.” He wished suddenly he hadn’t asked. He didn’t know how he felt about Fenrir going after Malfoy because of Narcissa Malfoy…because of what she had done for him.

“Father insisted," Malfoy flashed his familiar superior smile at Harry, even as he busied himself with the rune again.  “We knew Fenrir’s lycanthropy that night could be passed on. And father knew someone who’d used the traditional form of the Hunt to save a family member some 80 years ago or so. He was able to get the book from his contact and we completed the Hunt the very next full moon. Good thing too, he was arrested the next day.”

 _And died three months later in Azkaban._ While Harry was sure Malfoy wouldn’t appreciate it, his father’s death didn’t seem to have anything to do with lycanthropy. So at least Lucius had survived the Hunt. And Malfoy was, _theoretically_ , in control of his werewolf on transformation without wolfsbane.

Malfoy finished the symbol. _For trust,_ Harry thought belatedly.  And then stood up and moved seamlessly on to the next symbol on the left side of his chest. Harry looked away. The soil under his bare feet was still wet. While it was a bright summer evening, the woods only let in the light in faint patches. Harry knew from the tempus Malfoy had cast earlier, that they still had nearly three hours of sunlight to work with.

“You’ll draw the same runes with Teddy’s blood?” he asked faintly. He felt queasy at the idea.

“I’ll only have to use a little bit of his blood,” Malfoy said quickly. "And I'll use a charm to overlay it over these runes. While the hunt is primarily for him, I am going to use my blood to ground the magic for most parts. He’s too young.”

_Too young that it hopefully won’t matter that this wasn’t his first transformation. Too young hopefully to not have been scarred permanently by whatever magic Andromeda had tried to inflict on him._

“You care about Teddy,” Harry blurted out. It wasn’t really a question.

Draco frowned still concentrating on the rune for comfort, he was drawing on Harry’s chest. “we’ve been over this already Potter, Teddy is family.”

Harry snorted. “Family? A bit rich coming from you, isn’t it? Under normal circumstances, you’d be sneering that he’s a werewolf, that too of a half-blood mother. Admit it, Malfoy, you probably wouldn't give a shit about him if you hadn’t gotten your pureblood arse bitten. "

Old instincts to hurl an insult, to pick a fight - the words were out of his mouth before he could help it.

 

 He knew it he should leave it alone. But he couldn’t keep the malicious voice in his head quiet when it was crowing about Malfoy with all his pureblood bigotry being reduced to a creature he had hated.

“What if that’s true? What’s wrong with that?” Malfoy said, matter of fact, splaying his fingers on Harry’s sternum as he drew a connecting link between the runes.  “and if you must know werewolf prejudice in wizards is a result of our muggle associations. Helena would love to give you a lecture on that.”

“Oh, come of it, when will you Slytherins stop blaming the muggles for all that is wrong with our world?” Harry scoffed, only to have Malfoy grin.

“what?” he asked angrily, trying to ignore the urge to stop Malfoy’s finger’s circling around his chest as he drew another elaborate rune with the shit eating grin on his face.  

“Helena is…was a Hufflepuff,” Malfoy said smirking. “Who’s prejudiced now, eh Potter?”

Potter huffed and couldn’t help but take a step back.

Malfoy’s hand slipped and he cursed as the swirl he’d been attempting turned crooked. He glared at Harry as if it was his fault. He pulled Harry back closer, by his hip,  smudged out the symbol with his other hand, rubbing it completely into Harry’s skin, leaving it pink and raw before starting again.

At  Harry’s outraged sputtering he frowned. “It’s not poisoned, Potter. My blood won’t hurt you. You know you’re going to have to drink some of my blood at the end right, along with Teddy’s? Why are you such a prude when it comes to blood magic? You are-were an Auror Potter. Surely you’ve seen worse?”

“That’s not the point, Malfoy. There was no reason to rub your blood into my skin, Malfoy!” Harry hissed. He already felt irrationally like he’d bathed in this stuff, streaks of it running along his body, connecting each rune with the other.

“Why do you think we draw the runes in my blood?” There was a glint in Malfoy’s eyes, his voice rising. “just for the magic in my blood? No, Potter! It’s so that when I turn into a wolf, you smell of me! So that my wolf hopefully identifies you as mine -something to protect and not fucking kill! Given how much you hate me, Potter, I’D SAY HAVING YOU FULLY COVERED IN MY BLOOD, SO THAT I CAN’T EVEN TELL IT’S YOUR SUPERIOR ARSE UNDER THE FULL MOON, IS PROBABLY A GOOD THING!”

 _There were supposed to get along or something._ Harry thought glumly, as Malfoy went back to drawing the rune, his movements now rough and choppy. He wanted to make some effort at making amends but he stayed quiet not wanting to break Malfoy’s concentration as he redid the symbol. He felt the swirl, the spiral, and side projections take shape and he felt his chilled body relax, as the warmth from the rune seeped into his skin.

Malfoy had just stepped forward to draw the next rune on Harry’s right cheek when Harry caught his wrist impulsively. Before Malfoy could pull away, and Merlin had he underestimated werewolf strength before when he’d been brought to his knees by a simple wrist hold, Harry spoke up quickly.

“for the record, I don’t hate you. I mean I don’t like you – obviously, the feeling is mutual,” As Malfoy snorted, he added, “but I mean all that hate from school was long ago, yeah? I know you- we’ve all changed and you’ve already done your time and I don’t hold the old stuff against you...much.” he finished lamely, letting go of Malfoy’s wrist.  He hadn’t wanted to lie but of course, it sounded worse because of it.

“You think I have been punished enough?”

Harry stared at Malfoy not quite sure how to respond. Malfoy’s eyes glittered promising imminent violence either which way.  This War unlike the fighting from his parent’s time had been a clear victory. Voldemort was dead for certain. But the war was far from over. He’d grown increasingly disillusioned as the calls for ensuring ‘ending the War’ turned into calls for revenge, retribution, and justice.  The Spring Riots had been the definitive moment for him, the way the Aurors had been slow to react to the violence, letting it perpetuate, covering it up, calling it delayed justice.

 _"I can't believe you've quit over a bunch of dark wizards getting what they deserved!"_ Even Ron had shouted, angry at Harry for quitting.

But Harry had got sick of making that judgment.

He wasn't going to tell Malfoy all that though. He settled for what mattered.

 "All I care about is you're helping with Teddy. I can't thank you enough for that." 

Malfoy didn't gloat but the anger seemed to wash away. Instead, he fussed about losing daylight and drawing the symbol for family on Harry’s cheek, studiously avoiding eye contact. His pale cheeks and the tips of his ears stained red.

 _Hah, so you do get uncomfortable._ Harry wisely didn’t voice that thought.

* * *

 

The central premise of why werewolves attack humans is?” Draco asked in a sing-song voice, from outside the circle. One hour till full moon, sunlight still flittered through the silver oaks trees that surrounded the clearing in the heart of the forest.  Harry had as per Draco’s instructions dug a large circular furrow into the clearing. He was now weaving in wards to protect the circle, copying at a smaller more symbolic scale what he would have done for his home. The circle was where he was supposed to end up by the end of the Hunt if all went well. A symbolic home representing protection. Creating the circle took time and effort. He had to do this on his own. 

 “Er…Malfoy, your giddy excitement at having to hunt me down. Is that a good thing?” Potter tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. It was probably the blood loss but Malfoy was getting increasingly ‘loony’. He’d taken his outer robes and shoes off when they’d entered the clearing and he now lay sprawled smiling up from the moist woodland floor.

It didn’t help that Harry could feel some of the effects as well. The long day was weighing Harry down. Once the runic pattern had been completed, he was aware of a low level of magic shifting and sliding just under his skin. Now and again, he felt the magic of a rune snag against the robe he’d thrown over himself. It was uncomfortable and he had a feeling it would only intensify during the Hunt. 

 “It’s the moon, Potter. Answer the question.” Malfoy drawled.

Harry sighed in frustration. He wanted to concentrate on the spell work for a repelling charm that would keep out wild animals, but Malfoy couldn’t seem to shut up. _The Moon_. It seemed like the only explanation Malfoy had for most of what was happening tonight.

“The werewolf is trapped inside human skin. Unaware, asleep. On transformation, it’s as if the wolf is being born. Alone and afraid - out of touch with its humanity. Another human being reminds it only of a trap – something terrible that will take over and bind it back into nothingness once the night passes.” Harry recited dutifully. He could almost hear the bare outlines of Hermione’s extended lecture from way back when Snape had assigned them that essay. Funny, how things had a way of becoming relevant years later.

“So, what we attempt in the Hunt is to connect Teddy instead to your sense of humanity, right?”

“yeah you told me that’s what we do, Malfoy”

“But that’s not what we do, Potter, not really. It’s more complicated than that.” Malfoy said much to Harry’s frustration. “The book only describes the ritual in bare runes. The sound magical theory behind it is lost in time. We only have stories now from which we guess what it could have been.” As Harry stared at him in exasperation, Malfoy held his right hand out in the muted glow of the evening sun, staring fascinated at the way the light filtered through his fingers.

“Malfoy, can you please stop getting high? The moon’s not even up yet. I don’t know what’s wrong with you! Lupin hated the moon!”

“That’s because he hated the wolf and the wolf hated him back. He was a miserable sod either which way - human or wolf.” Malfoy said promptly.   He twisted to face Harry, propping his head up in his hand and asked curiously, completely ignoring Harry’s outraged expression.  “Potter, do you know why Professor Snape hates Lupin so much? He always sounds so venomous when he talks about him."

 _Was Malfoy really high? Surely, he remembers Snape is dead?_  “are you sure you’re all right, Malfoy?” Harry asked finally.

Malfoy stared at Harry seemingly confused for a second and then fell back to the ground, laughing helplessly. He quieted as he sat up, cross-legged, drumming his fingers on his knees. His eyes narrowed as he scowled suddenly.

“You reek of fear, Potter. I know he's dead.”

Malfoy’s mood swings were giving him a whiplash. Harry could only remember the animosity with which Malfoy had treated Snape back in sixth year but he sounded heartbroken now. Then again, he wasn’t quite sure of the conflicted mess of feeling he had for the man either. 

He finished the fire repellant ward quietly. It glowed red and blue before settling. He took the vial of Teddy's blood out of his robe pocket and motioned at Draco to come forward so that he could draw his blood as well. He then let the blood seep into the last and final ward closest to the circle.

 “Try it.”

Malfoy put his hand forward, then hastily pulled it back. The ward momentarily lit up as if from an electric discharge where Malfoy had touched it and the light crackled and chased after his retreating fingers. 

“It works,”  By the end of the hunt, when Harry was inside the circle, he would be safe from Malfoy and Teddy.

Harry nodded. The work he’d done when rebuilding Hogwart’s wards made this simpler warding much easier. He felt bone tired, though.  He went into the circle and placed his wand at the center and stepped out. He was now essentially defenseless. Kit appeared and whisked them away to the edge of the woods, closest to the garden.

Another curly haired house elf was waiting with a sleeping Teddy. Bizarrely enough, a blue-white checkered picnic blanket had been laid out on the grass, where Harry now sat. Malfoy had started pacing. The full moon had always made Lupin tired and weary. And even Malfoy early that afternoon has looked sick.  But now Malfoy seemed to be burning up with unused energy. He looked like he wanted to bolt right back into the woods. It was a further fifteen minutes of watching Malfoy’s increasingly erratic pacing before Harry thought of asking.

“will there…” he faltered, as Malfoy directed all his intensity at him. “will there be a lot of pain during the transformation?”

It was a stupid question. Of course, there would be a lot of pain.  But he looked at Teddy tucked close to him and he wished he could do something to prevent it. Greengrass had confirmed that the purge had been successful. Now it would depend on a successful transformation. There was a mild sleeping charm on Teddy, which would soon dissipate under the influence of the transformation. Already colour was seeping into his pasty white cheeks and his body was growing feverish.

“Potter,”

Harry started, as Malfoy crouched right at the edge of the blanket. He hadn’t seen him come closer.

“The pain doesn’t last long. He’ll be fine.”

The words washed over Harry offering little comfort. He’d been operating purely on desperation since morning and he hadn’t given the chance of failure much thought. But now…he wondered if he wasn't just as insane as Andromeda. Putting his faith in a Dark Arts ritual wasn't any better than trusting a quack, was it?

“How come you are so confident, Malfoy? How do you know it isn’t the moon madness?” Insanely enough, Harry was itching to start a fight in the eleventh hour.

Malfoy didn’t snap at him. Instead, he pressed his knees down on the checkered blanket, looming closer to Harry all in one fluid motion. Damn werewolf reflexes.

“And since when are you such a pessimist, Potter? You sure it isn’t the moon madness? I told you it would affect all of us, in different ways.” He said, his voice was rough but pitched lower than usual. Harry could have sworn he was making it sound soothing on purpose. He leaned closer cupping Harry’s jaw, and tilted up his head, "I told you it won't be easy. You've got to trust me and Teddy, Potter. It won't work otherwise."

He remembered Malfoy stressing how he’d feel like a prey, how he’d feel fear. He’d figured it wouldn’t set in until the transformation. But the night itself was making him feel helpless and bleak.

 “I…” Harry started to say but Teddy shifted in his arms and Malfoy let go of him.

 “It’s time,” Malfoy’s pupils were blown but his voice still had that rough soothing quality.

Harry could only nod, as Malfoy swept Teddy up and moved further away.

Harry shrugged off his robe so the runes were exposed fully but the fact that he was wandless already made him feel horribly naked.

It was time and he was far from ready.


End file.
